Hard way to Hollow
by MissFlesh
Summary: The inner demon is done playing horse, and is slowly starting to break his king apart not only mentally... Blood, gore, suffering
1. Disobedient Horse

--- Hard way to hollow ---

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**Author note:** This story was written by myself and Sephy-Chan.

Enjoy!

**Edited:** 12 Nov. 09

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Ichigo woke up with a start and his eyes met with a dark cloud filled sky. As soon as he saw the foreboding rain clouds, his eyes widened, his body stiffed, and he shot up from the ground to find himself not where he went to bed, but inside his own soul. Again.

It was the last place he wanted to be and his eyes widened in fear as they focused on an eerier white form that slowly loomed closer, dragging a white cleaver in its cloth behind him, making a grinding sound echo between buildings as a grin speared over his white face.

Not wanting to deal with his white alter-ego he inched back, desperately trying to find a way out of here. The other figure still loomed closer and started laughing in a high pitched voice Ichigo had come to hate and fear.

Thinking about an exit he realized he never left on his own. Always being sent back, or dragged out by force. His heart seemed to freeze when a white bony hand wrapped around his throat and pushed his entire body against the cold glass windows of the sideways building that formed the floor.

Ichigo grunted as his jaw was pressed against the cold surface, his left eye starting to water as it was forced into the ground. He tried to wriggle free, twist and turn, his arms and legs struggling in a futile attempt to get away. Ichigo cried out, begged for the hollow not to hurt him again, to let him rest for at least one night, to be free from pain. But the white boy ignored his pleads and lifted his neck up into the air only to slam it back into the ground several times.

He lost count, not wanting to remember, not able to remember. Any attempt to struggle into a sitting position using his arm only resulted in a sandaled foot crushing his nose and sending his head to meet with a concrete edge this time. Slowly the world in front of his eyes grew darker with each passing second, blood dripping from his nose onto the glass, staining it deep red.

Ichigo's lips were swollen, something they always seemed to be these days and he stared out over the mist filled world of skyscrapers. He tried to picture somewhere else – imagine a place other than this. Imagining that he was not there until a most real hand grabbed his hair. Ichigo closed his eyes, tried desperately to think of something, _anything_ else. But his hollows' head crept closer to his ear, breathing down his neck and whispered;

"You're here Ichigo… and you always will be. _I'll_ always be here, to make sure you _don't_ like it until you are so pathetic that you will _beg_ for me eat you alive, until I am your only escape. So don't you dare pretend anything else."

Ichigo heard what the white one told him, but with the blood pulsing in his ears and the blood seeping out of his nose made it hard to form a rational response.

"Uhnng..." was all he managed. The hollow grinned at first, then slowly started to chuckle with a hint of madness.

"Why not make your suffering a little more interesting?" Unsheathing his white zanpaktou, he thrust it though the palm of the others hand.

Ichigo screamed, his voice filled with fear and pain, his breath quickening into short gasps. He cried, his eyes watering as the blade was rotated, opening a hole in his palm. The other hand was stabbed as well and quickly Ichigo curled together, his hands shaking in front of his eyes as he couldn't touch them, since it would only increase the burning pain. He wailed loudly, just making sounds of despair as he was pushed to the ground again, his head slamming into the concrete, since he could not break the fall with his hands.

"Awww, does it hurt, little Ichigo...?" The voice sounded concerned, and white hands grabbed one of the bleeding ones, as if giving it a closer look before squeezing it tightly. "This better!?" The bright voice rose in volume, to make sure it was heard over the agonized screams from Ichigo.

Agonised screams filled his inner world as it started to rain heavily from the dark clouds. Letting go of the bloodied hand the white hollow looked up, the rain dripping in his eyes, making him blink.

"Tch, rain..." Looking back at the black bleeding pile that was his king, he was disgusted. How could someone so weak as that boy beat him? The thought alone pissed him off even more than the rain and he kicked the figure on the ground hard. Ichigo landed a few meters away, coughing up blood from a bitten tongue and curled up in pain, his hands still shaking beyond his control. The hollow jumped and landed next to his master and pried one of the hands loose and squeezed it.

"How could I be beaten by someone as weak as you!?" Venom dripped from his words as he threw the hand back on the concrete, stepping on it and pressed it like one would a cigarette.

The hollow bent down, his foot still on the hand and pulled Ichigo by his hair to force him too look at him.

"Tell me King; _Why_ are you so pathetic, _Why_ are you so weak, _Why_ are you such a god damn _failure_!?" he spat in Ichigo's face and before the boy could answer, which he knew he wasn't supposed to do anyways, a fist smashed his already broken nose and eye. It quickly swelled and Ichigo could no longer open it. Blood ran out of his mouth in a thick trail along his chin when it dropped forward as he lost consciousness.

"Pathetic..." the hollow whispered and with a grimace the boy he held in his hand was thrown over the edge of the blue building he was standing on, knowing Ichigo left this world when he didn't hear the sound of bones breaking on concrete.

-- -- -- --

Ichigo heard someone calling him…

'Ichi-nii!' A voice woke him as he was shaken by small hands and little strength. Slowly opening his eyes, which took some time to focus, he saw that he was in his own room and sat up straight at once, looking at his hands. Once again his heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he wondered when he would get a stroke.

"Ichi-nii! You're okay!" his blond sister, Yuzu, said as she hugged him, sobbing. "You were screaming in your sleep and didn't wake up when I called you." She looked in his chocolate brown eyes that still looked confused. "I'm so glad you're awake now. I was scared." She admitted before she started to sob against his chest even more.

"It's nothing Yuzu." Ichigo lied, quickly wiping his eyes from tears he felt had formed as he had been 'sleeping'. He looked away from his sister's face when he felt his own start to deform with sadness. He breathed in sharply through his nose. No! He couldn't cry in front of his sister, never. She would not see him weak and pathetic. He took another deep breath and exhaled slowly before looking at the young girl again.

"I'm fine, so don't worry. I'll come downstairs in a bit, since I guess dinner is ready? Hehe, I must have fallen asleep again, my bad. Sorry."

Yuzu could easily hear the strain in his voice; she could clearly see that he wanted to hide his breaking voice and his swollen eyes. She decided not to ask when she could clearly see that he did not want to talk about it. She got up, she was a big girl, she knew when to leave matters to themselves, plus she had no clue what was bothering her brother.

"Dinner will be ready in ten minutes." She said in a low voice and squeezed his wrist. She quickly regretted doing to when she felt him stiffen with pain. Her face turned worried again, but she decided to leave it and quickly exited the room and hurried down the stairs. As soon as she was down her father ran up to her.

"What's wrong, my little angel?" He asked, voice concerted.

"Its Ichi-nii, he's crying again!!"

Worry flashed through his dark brown eyes, not even a second, but it was there. "He must have broken up with a girl!" He said happily, not wanting to worry his little girl. Knowing full well inside that it must be something more than a simple nightmare to make Ichigo cry.

"But his writs hurt..." The blond sobbed, letting her tears flow freely. "I touched it and he was in pain..."

"That stupid son of mine must have been angry and think he could punch though a wall!" This seemed to cheer her up a bit. "Now Daddy will tell him to stop acting like a baby and act his age! He shouldn't be worrying his sister."

With that said Isshin ran upstairs, stopping in front of his son's room. Knocking the door he could hear Ichigo sobbing slightly inside. He opened the door and dropped his happy facade when he walked past the door post. The orange haired teen lay on his bed, curled up into a ball, hands close to his body. Isshin began to wonder what happened when his son went to his room to lay down earlier that day.

Slowly he walked up to the bed, but decided against touching his son; instead he sat down on Ichigo's chair and rolled it up close to be bed. First he just sat there, letting Ichigo speak first if he wanted, but words never came and Isshin could only see his son's chest heave up and down in heavy breaths, sometimes twitching as Ichigo obviously was trying to stop crying. Isshin frowned and moved his own hands together before he lay a comforting one on his sons shoulder despite his decision only a few seconds earlier.

"Ichigo... What's wrong...?" he asked softly.

As expected Ichigo only flinched at the touch. His shoulders pushed closer together and his legs curled closer to his body. A whimper was heard and Isshin quickly removed his hand, clearly feeling Ichigo's rejection. Isshin frowned again, but decided it was best to leave his son alone. He was after all, for the still unknown reason, crying too hard and refusing to talk to anyone. His son really needed to learn to open up and not hide everything inside. It wasn't the first time Isshin had found his son lying like this; crying quietly on his bed.

"Will you come down for dinner, Ichigo...?" He asked with a steady voice. He didn't expect an answer but was relieved when he heard a voice broken from crying whisper a "Yes..." in response before he left the boy alone in the dark room.

Once down stairs again, he smiled at his sisters that looked at him for answers.

"Ichigo will be down with us soon! He's my son, so no need to worry!" He almost screamed as he threw himself at the table and happily filled his plate with today's dinner, successfully distracting his daughters from worrying thoughts about their brother as he started babbling about pointless things.

After about a fifteen minutes of eating Ichigo slowly came downstairs, his wrists wrapped in white bandages from a first-aid kit in his room. His eyes were still a bit red and he looked tired, dragging his feet as he walked down the stairs not bothering to lift them or his head. When he came into view of his family they fell silent, no laughter, no meaningless chat. Seeing Ichigo like this broke their hearts, he never was like this for as far as they could remember.

However Isshin _had_ seen his son like this, but only once before, and that was after the death of his mother; Masaki. He refused to talk back then, didn't want anyone to touch him. Just sitting in his room all day, when he was outside he was searching the riverbed where she died. Isshin just hoped he wouldn't have to see his son like that again.

"Ichi-nii?" The black haired sister questioned, when he came slouching into the kitchen that was filled with life and laughter before.

"I'm fine." Ichigo answered as he gave them a weak smile, not wanting others to worry about him.

"I'm not very hungry. So I'm gonna take a shower and go to bed." His voice was hoarse from all the screaming and crying of the past hour. He left the kitchen, heading for the shower.

"He's acting really weird." Karin noted.

"Daddy" The blond said, her voice filled with worry about her brother. "Please take a look at his wrist."

Isshin sprung up from his seat. "Daddy will make sure that he's in perfect condition!" He yelled from his position on top of the table. Looking at his daughters he sat down on his knees.

"Don't worry, he's just in a stage in his life. Let him be and don't worry. It'll pass soon enough." he said in a more serious tone as he went for the shower where his son should be.

Ichigo himself was standing in the bathroom, making sure he wasn't looking at the mirror, scared of what he would see if he did. He slowly let his pants drop and took off his shirt. He wearily eyed his body, stared at the all too visible hip bones, the too clearly seen ribs. He ran a thin hand along his stomach and groaned before he started removing the bandaged from his wrists, slowly loosening it until his skin was exposed to the air of the world. He didn't like what he saw, rashes, eczema to be exact.

He couldn't help but to move his nails to scratch at them, as he stepped into the shower and started the water. He scratched too much and for too long until the skin went numb and redder than before. As he scratched at his arm, the other areas with the same eczema began to itch and get irritated as well. He scratched his neck, the inside of his thighs, both his wrists and lower arms. It came from stress he was sure of it. But he didn't dare to tell anyone, not to tell them why he wasn't sleeping, eating, drinking or even leaving his room anymore.

There was no need to tell them, he would solve this problem himself. Lost in thoughts looking for answers he didn't notice that the eczema on his left wrist had started bleeding, from too much scratching. Looking back on his hand when he felt it prickle, he saw the crimson fluid drip from the wounded hand to the floor where it mixed with the hot water and left through the drain.

"Fuck…" He didn't have enough bandages to cover everything and he had just thrown his dirty clothes in the washer, not wanting to have any reminders of what happened in his own world. He saw no choice as to wrap himself in soft white towels after he was done showering, praying they wouldn't advance his itching places.

Sighing and ignoring the blood for now, he grabbed the shower gel and smeared it over his body, cursing when the soap went over his rashes. _'This is going to be hard to keep secret, but it's MY problem.'_ He thought to himself and looked up unintentionally, straight in the mirror.

He regretted doing said action as soon as he had done it, as his saw his own reflection twist and bend, flash as if it was having bad connection with the world and slowly deformed into a pale, yellow and black eyed twisted version of himself that smiled all too crudely at him. He could hear whispers, cries and screams of certain doom rise, they filled his mind until there was nothing else and he fell to the wet slippery floor as one voice raised above all the others, a bright high, twisted version of his own voice.

'_I'm as close as I can be Ichigo, don't you dare think anything else, I am in every action you do, in every breath you take, in everything you see and touch. I am you and you are mine. You will fall as I slowly will break your puny soul into bits and take you over. Don't you dare think I'm not here. I am your rashes, I am your skin.'_

The voice boomed, pushed all other sounds away and Ichigo screamed on the ground, twitching in the water.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!!" he begged the voice, but it would not yield. "I'm the King, I'm the King!! Do as I say!! SHUT UP!!"

'_You _were _the King, but not anymore! Your __horse__ stopped __obeying__! Your __horse__attac__-'_ The booming words stopped, the hundreds of echoing voiced died and Ichigo gasped for air, his face distorting in sadness and fear as he heard someone slam on the door to the bathroom.

Looking at the door; fear and worry filled his eyes. Then he realized that he was just yelling against a voice that no one but him could hear. In his panic he got out from under the shower and wrapped himself in those fluffy towels that did exactly what he didn't want, brush over his rashes and causing them to become even more irritated. His mind was hazy, not knowing what to do about his father banging on the door and his body itching like hell.

"J- just a sec.." His voice sounded broken, rough, tired. Just in time he finished hiding behind a large towel, as Isshin almost broke down the door after Ichigo spoke.

"I don't care what you say to me, something is very wrong." He was serious and most of all worried.

"N-no. I'm really fine. And now get ou-" Ichigo stuttered until his voice left him. A shaking left hand made it way to his throat and felt it as if he wanted to push his vocal cords back into place, but his eyes just grew when the towel fell away from his wrist as he dropped it and revealed the eczema.

Isshin's eyes narrowed at the sight, recognizing it at once. The large hand of his shot out and grabbed the wrist and inspected it further. The orange haired teen wanted to scream in pain, but no sound came out from his mouth. It wasn't until he closed his teary eyes and clenched his jaw that his father noticed and released him. Ichigo managed a half baked kick and ran to his room, locking the door behind him.

_'That was not a normal eczema' _Isshin thought and moved a hand through his hair. He was starting to get really worried, Ichigo was anything but fine and he knew it. He bent down; grabbing the bandages Ichigo had been wearing before. He eyed them closely, the blood he saw on them made him want to go and bash some sense into his son, but he knew matters were worse than he thought, and that his normal methods would not help this time.

Ichigo didn't know what to do, his mind racing. His breathing was ragged as if he had been running for miles. He dragged himself over to his bed, put on a pair of boxers before falling over it limply. He felt his hands and his rashes pulsing with pain. He just wanted it all to end and he curled together into a ball, wrapping the sheets of the bed around himself once again.

He tried to ignore the quiet voice in his head, it was so quiet that he wasn't sure if he was imagining it or not. Hours passed of it whispering of how pathetic he was, how he was nothing but a waste of life that needed to be put to an end and to stop fighting what was pointless to fight. The voice spoke of all mistakes he had done, about memories he tried to forget, showed him just how much of a loser he was.

The boy curled together more, if possible, and pushed his hands to his ears in a try to shut the voice out. But of course it didn't help and it wasn't until Ichigo was so exhausted that the world went black and he wondered the next day if he had actually fallen asleep this time, or simply fainted.

Two hours later Ichigo's eyes shot open; his heart racing as he woke up with a start from the alarm of his red mobile phone he didn't remembered setting. He groaned as he slammed the phone off, but jerked fully awake as pain seared through his hands. Before he knew it he was up and in his bathroom, trying to stop the _holes_ in his hands from bleeding. Ichigo's eyes were wide, his breath panicked. Why had those wounds appeared now...?

'_Because _I_ put them there!'_

Ichigo spun around on the spot, looking behind himself, around himself, trying to see if anyone was there. But voice was gone as soon as it had come and of course no one was there in the room with him. But he kept looking behind his back every now and then, the paranoia never leaving him as he quickly set out to wrap his hands, arms and neck with thin layers of the last bandages he had in his room. Most of it was still downstairs since yesterday.

Ichigo washed his face and tried to look and act happy. He had covered his mirror a long time ago; he didn't want to see his alter ego in there. He knew the hollow would be more powerful if they could see each other. Once done, he put on his school uniform, wearing a long sleeved t-shirt underneath that was too long in the arms, long enough to go over his hands, just what he wanted. A pair of gloves also made their way over his hands before he grabbed his school bag, and almost stumbled over his chair from lack of sleep before he took a deep breath. Once he exhaled a shaky one, he practically ran down the stairs, past the kitchen, quickly grabbed his shoes and a jacket, getting out of the house before any of the others living there had the chance to even react.

Once outside he got goose bumps from the cold, it was colder than he expected it to be. But going back inside would mean seeing his family and annoying questions that he would have to answer. He didn't feel like going to school either, he hadn't been to school in over a week. He would go outside, heading in the direction of the school, but never go inside the building. Ichigo went training on his own, wanting to become stronger – strong enough to beat the hollow into a pulp. That would solve his problems.

But training also meant not going to school, missing classes and worried 'friends'. He groaned at the last thought. His 'friends'. How would they act towards him now? Sighing he started walking, still goose bumps on his skin from the cold weather in early fall. After a few steps his neck began to ache, but he refrained from scratching. What if it would start to bleed, the thin bandages would get red and he would have to go to the school nurse. She would force him to remove them and call his father about the rash. Shaking his head he almost got hit by a speeding car. Instinct saving him by jumping backwards, back on his feet he cursed the driver, shaking a gloved fist at the car that was long gone, but when he tried to raise his voice there was no sound coming out. His hand back to his throat, his mind raced about what was wrong with him, knowing full well that his hollow was probably to blame for everything.

"Ichigo. Is that you?" he heard a familiar voice behind him, and spun around to see who it was. His school 'friend' Koijima Mizuiro. He just held up his hand to say hi, not that he could talk anyway.

"Where have you been? You haven't been at school for over a week." He sounded slightly worried; it annoyed the orange haired one. "Have you been fighting?" Mizuiro asked upon seeing the bandages on the others neck and reached out to touch it. Ichigo walked backwards and held his hand over his neck, looking slightly scared that the other might find out about his rash.

"Are you okay?" Mizuiro sounded very worried this time about his friend, who normally was confident in everything and cuts and bruises were normal. "What happened?"

Ichigo didn't know what to do and ran to school; not wanting to deal with the worries of his 'fiends'.

His thin legs pumped with energy that he didn't really have and he was out of breath long before he reached the school building. He leaned against its walls, at a place he knew not many students walked by, in an attempt to catch his breath. It took longer than he thought to calm down, but once he did he straitened and fixed his clothes, pulled up the collar of his jacket to hide the white fabric and ran a hand through his hair in a weak attempt to look a little more decent.

Taking another deep breath, he put his hands in his pockets and headed slowly towards the classroom. He decided to arrive late, so the other students wouldn't be able to talk to him due to the class having started. After arriving sooner than he had liked, he quietly walked over to his seat, hoping none would see him when he did. He made sure to be as quiet as possible.

But no matter how quiet he was, he knew everyone was starring at him and he tried to be as small as he could on his chair while taking up pens and paper from his bag, his hands hurting with every movement. Class started and he focused hard on just writing stuff down from the board and nothing else, it was hard though, his hands shaking, his fingers not really working. He dropped the pen several times, but he was determined to do nothing else than writing down the text that he wasn't really reading, he just copied each word for itself, not understanding the complete story.

Once class was over, Ichigo didn't know what to do. He slowly packed his pens back into his bag, or he tried, but dropped his pencil-box on the floor before he had the change to react. He wearily got off his seat and slowly bent down. His leg hurt for no practical reason and his world swayed as he did. He closed his eyes and ran a pair of gloved fingers over them.

"Hey Ichigo… are you alright…?" The soft voice of Tatsuki asked him, but it didn't sound soft to him, to him it sounded harsh and loud, his head sensitive to sound due to lack of sleep. He looked at her weakly through bloodshot eyes and smiled faintly at her, nodding.

She starred at him with eyes that clearly showed concern and said 'Don't lie to me'. But she never asked and instead helped him with his pencils as she easily noticed something was wrong with the boy's hands. She handed him the box filled with pencils as Ichigo himself only had managed to pick up four of them himself.

"T-thanks…" Ichigo's voice squeaked, its tone was bright and twisted. It sounded as if it was tearing the insides of his throat when he spoke. Ichigo's eyes widened along with Tatsuki's at his voice and he moved a gloved hand over his lips and snatched the box from the girl before he got up with pain burning through his legs and looked away, obviously wanting to get away from his friends worried eyes. But the pain in his legs caused him to fall to the floor instead.

"Ichigo!" Tatsuki exclaimed as the orange haired teen fell to the floor. He tried to sit back up, but his wrists started to burn and he fell back to the ground as his neck and legs were burning more fiercely than before. Obvious to everyone else in the room as he made pained noises in a voice that didn't sound as his own and curled up into a ball. The white bandage on his neck was visible and starting to get redder with each passing second. More students came into the room hearing the noises and worried murmur of a famous, cocky orange haired student. All of them just looked at him writhing on the ground in pain as tears started to from in his eyes without helping.

"Hey Ichigo..." Tatsuki said worriedly as she shook him lightly. But he only twitched more at the touch. Swapping his hand away she grabbed it and looked at it and the red bandages, the same ones as around his neck.

Jerking his hand free Ichigo tried to get away like terrified five-year old child who saw his nightmare come true. Tatsuki's hand felt wet and as she looked back at it she saw crimson, eyes widening she figured he must be in a terrible amount of pain to act like this. Tatsuki's resolve hardened as she lifted Ichigo and started to drag him to the sickbay. The students stepped aside, not wanting to touch the strange acting teen who didn't struggle. Barely conscious.

Half lifting, half dragging him through the crowded hallways they were stared at. The office came into view and Ichigo started to come too, looking around he recognized where he was. But he wasn't walking; he looked to the side and saw his childhood friend. He moved a bit, but regretted it at once as his wounds started to burn. Face twisted in pain when she sat him down in the chair in front of the nurses office.

"My..bag.." he said quietly, hard enough for the black hired girl to hear, nodding she headed back to class. With the intention to find out what was wrong with him when she returned to him.

As Ichigo was left alone on the cold bench and he pulled his legs close, leaning his head on his knees after wiping his tears away. He couldn't believe he had just had a breakdown in the classroom. He just wanted to get his bag and go somewhere – _anywhere_ where he would be alone and away from everything. Away from his terrible alter ego that he hated more than anything else. The more he thought about it, the more he thought of his hollow and before he knew it voices began to mumble in his head once again, blocking out all other sounds.

He whimpered as he knew what was to come, but the booming voice of his hollow never came. The many voices that made no sense kept on ringing in his ears, not wanting to go away even as he covered his ears with hurting hands and clenched his jaw and eyes shut. Thick tears ran from his eyes and he hastily wiped them away, almost thinking it was a mask that was forming.

The voices, what he thought they were, were so loud now – never stopping. He pushed harder at his ears and rocked back and forth in his seat. Mumbling quietly to himself.

"Shut up… shut up… shut up… shut up…"

A gentle hand touched his shoulder, getting him out of his trance. His eyes and cheeks were wet with the salty tears, eyes red and slightly swollen he looked at the owner of the hand; the school doctor. She was disturbed by the boy in front of her, talking to himself, shaking and those red tinted bandages.

"Are you feeling alright?" Her voice was shaking slightly at the thought of what could be wrong with him.

He shook his head slightly and tried to stand up, but his hands hurt and he stood up without the use of them, but fell to his knees in pain, a scream passing his lips. It sounded more like a blood curling howl of a hollow than the voice of the human boy emitting the sound. All students who were in the vicinity looked around to see where the sound came from.

How was a human able to make that kind of sound without any instruments or special effects? When Ichigo realized what he was doing he closed his mouth and covered it with his hands, making sure no more noises could come out. He was scared, what the hell was happening to him? His body was shaking in fear and he looked around. Every one of them had a confused look on their face while others were just scared. Ichigo saw Tatsuki come back through the crowd closely followed by Sado and Uryuu who recognized the sound as 'hollow'.

"Ichigo!" Tatsuki yelled as she saw him sit on the ground. Throwing the bag on the ground she sat down in front of him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Her voice was honest and concerned. He felt cornered, trapped and very uncomfortable. Taking a deep breath he forced his legs to move, grabbing his bag he ran for the exit of the building. Ignoring the pain that shot through his whole body, like it was being burned from the inside out, ripped apart, he headed home, and prayed that nobody would be there.

Ichigo slammed the door open and threw his bag to the ground, ignoring the fact that its contents were scattered across the floor. He ran both hands through his sweaty hair, walking around in circles in the living room. Tears flowed from his eyes, but he didn't care about them anymore. He whimpered desperate wordless sounds as he had no clue what to do at all. He was scared, scared into the very core of his soul and he was sure the monster in there felt it, and was most amused about it too.

Before he could do anything more, the voices filled his mind again. Too loud and above it all the voice that had come to be his own screamed that he was his. Ichigo felt his knees give away and his head slammed into the cold floor before the world went black.

The scream resurfaced as soon as his eyes met with a dark blue world. He scrambled up on bony legs and ran, he didn't care where, just ran over blue buildings trying to get away from what he knew would come at him any second.

On the outside of his own world though, someone had found his fallen body. His father to be exact. He had been over at a large hospital to get refills on various medicines. As soon as he had seen the bag thrown at the floor he and stomped into the living room, looking for his son. He quickly dropped the bags and lifted his son up in his arms. He could clearly see the trails of tears, the swollen eyes and lips, his whole face seemed strained even when he was unconscious.

He carried his son to the clinic parts of their house, putting him down on one of the many beds and decided to take a closer look on his son's body. He stripped his son from his sweaty clothes and he didn't like what he saw.

Ichigo was clearly under weight and Isshin could see nail marks from too much scratching. He had scratched himself until he bled on several places, over his thighs, neck, arms, and chest. There were rashes that Isshin could tell came from stress or some sort of trauma; there were also several dark bruises. Ichigo's legs were swollen, especially around the knees. Isshin moved to examine his son's legs, the insides of them too so he wouldn't miss anything. He was starting to think that perhaps his son had hurt himself with something else than just his fingers and he didn't dare to think about in what way Ichigo could have gotten the bruises,_ if _he inflicted them upon himself.

Isshin couldn't help but to gasp when he removed the sticky bandage from his son's hands as he saw that they were stabbed right through. But Isshin did try to act professional and started to clean the wounds with wads of cotton, worry etched deep into his face as he did.

In Ichigo's inner world Ichigo was still running and tripped over his own feet and hit the glass floor face first. His nose hurt and blood streamed from it as he got back into a sitting position, looking down at the ground he saw crimson red drops falling onto the glass.

Staring at his hands he could see that the wounds were beginning to infect and swell strangely. Tears found their way out his tear canals again and he started sobbing, wondering what he had done to be treated like this. Why was he being treated like this? He didn't understand any of it. He kept on sobbing until he was being dragged up by his hair. He knew the only one it could be in this hell that was his own world; his white alter ego, his hollow.

The boy's mind told him to struggle, but his body didn't respond to the orders it received. "Time for the second part of your demotion from 'king' to 'helpless pathetic worm'." The hollow laughed, as the hairs on Ichigo's neck stood up straight.

Being thrown back to the concrete, his head hit the edge making him see hazy for a few seconds; and the hollow took his sweet time stepping on the lifeless, infected hand, pressing it as flat as he could with his sandal. The owner of said hand screamed out, his voice his own, not the beast like one he had before. But everything that happened in this world would somehow transfer to his real and shinigami form. It didn't work the other way around; wounds sustained in the 'outside' world wouldn't come back to the 'inside world'.

On the outside Isshin's worry only grew worse as his son's nose started bleeding for no reason and his hand began to bleed without being touched by anything.

_'What the hell is going on?' _he wondered desperately, trying to figure out a way to help his suffering son. He thought about going to the hospital, but if the problem involved something that was related to the afterlife, Ichigo would only become a guinea pig to the doctors in the human world. All he could do right now was to try and stop the mysterious bleeding and treat the eczema.

"Really pathetic King..." the white hollow said with disrespect as he removed his feet from the hand that was immediately grabbed by the orange haired shinigami trying to cradle the pain away by holding it close.

"I refuse to bow my head for a WEAK KING LIKE YOU!" He roared as he kicked the others ribcage hard enough to break a few ribs and Ichigo coughed up blood.

"I know the perfect punishment for someone like you." A broad sadistic grin appeared on his face as he walked closer. The look in the eyes of the orange haired teen was far beyond fear; he was weak, hurt and unable to move his limbs the way he wanted. He blinked once and his chest exploded with a terrible pain, which he voiced with another monstrous howl.

As Ichigo screamed more than he had ever done, the hollow only laughed. Laughed over his "kings" howls of pain. There was nothing but glee in his eyes, the smile on his lips never fading as Ichigo slumped into a heap on the cold ground.

In the real world, Isshin almost fainted as he saw his own son twitch as if he had a seizure, arms and legs flexing back and forth and the nosebleed he had been trying to stop only increased. The moving body in front of him started to turn blue as if he was suffocating and Isshin threw himself at the oxygen mask and placed it hastily over his sons face. He held Ichigo's body down, to prevent him from hurting itself even further, but the twitching didn't die down and his body wasn't getting any more oxygen even with the mask in place.

The doctor quickly put on a heart monitor on his son's chest and just as he did, he felt that the heart was pounding way too fast. What scared him the most thought was when he heard a loud crunching sound and it took him sometime to realize that it had come from is own son.

Isshin's initial thought that Ichigo had broken a finger, but those all looked fine, or as fine as they could under the circumstances.

However Ichigo was moving around too much for his own good and Isshin tied the moving limbs to the bed with the closest thing he could find; band-aids. When he glanced at his son's chest again, he heard the heart monitor go into a long, single tone; Ichigo's heart almost stopping completely. Isshin paled.

In the middle of Ichigo's chest some sort of dent had formed; the skeleton had lowered into his chest, the skin hanging in his chest freely. Isshin's own heart skipped a beat and in panic he decided to put his son out with drugs even if he had fainted on his own. His son didn't seem to have fainted for real even if his body told of it. So he grabbed a needle and sank it deep into his son's arm, instantly knocking him out, the twitching stopping almost at once.

Ichigo's hands seemed to have swollen a bit more after being stitched together carefully by his father. His fingers were thick and unformed, the left hand being the worst. At first Isshin had thought it was his stitches that had become infected, but after cleaning and inspecting them for several minutes, he decided against the stitches being the problem. So he let his son rest.

After a few hours of expecting his son to wake up after the drug had passed, he carried his son to his room, seeing it would be a better place for him to wake up once he did, knowing it was best to let the boy sleep.

Isshin sighed and went back to the hallway where he had dropped the bag with medicine and noticed that he hadn't ordered any of the drugs he had just given Ichigo. He would have to go back to re-stock on those. He hurried, hoping his son wouldn't do anything stupid when he woke up, if he woke up, as he would be drowsy from the heavy medication.

End of chapter


	2. Trampled King

--- Trampled King ---

* * *

Slowly waking up and opening his eyes Ichigo turned his head, the only part of his body that didn't feel like it was put through the wringer. He was in his room, familiar look and scent.

Breathing a sigh of relief that he was in his bedroom and not in his inner world, he tried to sit up, ignoring the protesting screams of his body. The world was fuzzy, as if he saw it through a dirty window. Lifting his hands to his face he saw that they were covered in gentle bandages, the holes from when his hollow had run them through with their sword still underneath. His eyes widened as he remembered what had happened and his freshly stitched hands went to his chest as images flashed through his misty mind.

The sword was pushed into the middle of his chest, all the way down into the building below. Ichigo was impaled by the white counterpart's sword, his agonized voice ringing throughout the whole world. Pain in its purest form was clear in the sound if his scream and the hollow only laughed harder, more insane with each passing second. He pulled out the sword and tasted the blood on the tip.

"Not a bad taste for a fragile king like yourself." Turning the blade a quarter he shoved it back into the orange haired teens chest, creating a "+" like wound in the body that was writhing in pain, bleeding frantically and staining the building dark crimson red as the body began twitching as if electrocuted.

"Don't you dare faint on me before I'm done with you!" The hollow growled, annoyed as Ichigo was about to lose consciousness. Twisting the blade while it was still embedded in the body, Ichigo didn't scream anymore – much to the annoyance of the white counterpart and he pulled it out.

It looked like the kid was frozen in fear, not able to move, even without a sword through his chest. Becoming pissed, the hollow went to the flagpole old man Zangetsu always stood on and cut it down, taking the slim pole with him, aimed, and stuck it in the boy's body exactly on the same place the sword had been before. Ichigo didn't move.

'_He ain't dead. Or I would be gone as well.'_ He thought to himself, pulled out the pole and threw it to the side where it cracked the glass and rolled to a stop. The body of Ichigo started to fade slowly, the hollow watching with a satisfied grin as the spilled blood remained.

Ichigo cringed at the memory and pulled his numb body together. He stopped breathing when his fingers met with his chest. Even if his fingers were swollen and numb, he could clearly feel that it was soft where it wasn't supposed to be. He quickly removed his hands, fright spreading through his body.

He stared at the roof as if it knew all the wonders of the world were gone. He knew very well what was underneath the soft skin. Absolutely nothing.

Ichigo wanted to cry again but no tears came, just the way he was breathing and how his face twisted in sadness made it visible that he was sad beyond words. His body began to shake and he leaned forward, his face eventually hitting the soft fabrics of his bed. He cradled his chest with his shaking arms and wailed loudly. He wanted to wake up, wake from this terrible, horrible nightmare that he didn't want to be real.

He didn't know for how long he lay there, staring into the sheets hoping it would all end. But after being in the same position for too long he sat up, his back aching. He leaned against the wall behind him, his chest heaving. He blinked slowly, his mind seemed to be slowly shutting itself down and he wearily looked around himself, not really picking up his surroundings. But he did spot a glass of water on his night stand. He quickly reached for it but felt that his hand didn't do as he wanted. It felt tight and hot, his fingers felt tough and clumsy, but eventually he did manage to get a firm grip on the glass and quickly swept it. As he did, he felt his throat contract and the water came back up and sprayed it over his clothes and bed.

Ichigo gasped for air that didn't want to quiet reach him. He threw the glass across the room, watching it shatter against the wall and sending glass flying. He screamed out in anger and frustration but quickly stopped and clasped his mouth with his hands; his scream had turned into that blood curling howl once again and faintly he could hear all the mumbling accusing voices rise around him once more.

With his heart in his throat he stood, his body shaking , his voice giving out grunts instead of whimpers now. He clawed at his own face, ears, neck and without realizing it he stepped on the shards of glass that covered the floor.

Ichigo jumped in surprise, not very high, but high enough to make the shards that were already stuck in his feet go deeper. He cried out, his voice still harsh, but that was temporarily forgotten as he stepped around in broken glass, his mind not working due to the people in his head screaming at him. Some sounded like his sisters, some like his father, some of his so called friends, some even like his dead mother; all of them yelling accusations and insults at him. He screamed once more at them to shut up, to go away. He begged them to stop, to leave him be. But his plea fell on deaf ears.

It wasn't until he spotted his bed with wide, frightened eyes that he became sensed enough to limp over to it, the glass pushing deep enough to meet with bone. The mattress moved after his light, frail looking form as he sat down on in, his feet quickly leaving the floor. He moved one of his feet to lie over his knee, carefully pulling out shards with clumsy fingers while breathing through his nose. The voices were slowly rising in volume, screaming worse and worse words at him. He rubbed one hand against his ear as hard as he could in a pathetic attempt to shut out the sounds and begged them to stop.

Raindrops started to play their own melody against the closed windows, but Ichigo didn't hear it, not with the voices that kept blaming him for being weak and unable to protect _her_. The voice of his mother rang the hardest in his mind.

'I thought you said you would protect me!' He flinched every time he heard it. 'You're a worthless son! I wish you were never born!'

Blocking out the other voices was difficult enough; even if he knew his hollow was just playing with him, telling him he'd take control. But when Ichigo started to wonder why he hadn't done that already, the hollow started giggling inside his mind.

'I enjoy torturing you, and seeing you suffer.' Knowing his white counterpart wasn't joking, Ichigo continued to pull the glass from his feet with his half numb hands that kept hurting each time he moved a muscle. His eyes became even hazier as the drugs were trying to get him to sleep. Ichigo didn't want to sleep, or he would wake up in his inner world where his hollow would just torture him senseless again. He could not allow himself to sleep.

Hearing the front door creak open and the voices of his family, Ichigo was fully awake and suddenly the voices in his head were gone. His eyes were wide as sweat tickled down the right side of his head. Not daring to move a muscle he listened to what is family was doing.

'Please stay quiet, Ichigo is really sick and needs his rest.' He heard his father say in a serious tone, for the first time in his memory. 'I'll go check on him.'

The footsteps became louder as the old man come closer to his room, the first step of the wooden staircase. The wounded orange haired teen panicked, he didn't want to be seen like this, not by anyone. Standing up he ignored the shard under his feet that tore his skin apart, making blood ooze out.

Looking around his room hastily he only saw one method of escaping possible, dump this body and flee as a shinigami. Grabbing the golden shinigami badge from his desk he pressed it against the dent in his chest, grimacing at the tough of what was beneath the skin. Pushing the thought away he heard his body fall to the wooden floorboards with a loud sound and instantly the pace on the stairs increased. Dropping the gold badge on his bed Ichigo leaped out of the window into the dark, rainy night.

Ichigo ran blindly ahead, letting his legs take him wherever they wanted. He splashed through puddles, through slippery grass and over muddy sand. He ran through deserted streets, past locked homes and stores. It wasn't until he glimpsed to the right, his eyes falling upon his own reflection in the glass of a dress store; that he stopped dead in his tracks.

His breathing stopped as he looked down at his hands that he had glanced in the window. His eyes widened in fear at what he saw, his mouth gaping open as he screamed when saw what he feared the most become clearer than reality itself.

His fingers were white. Purest white. His left one had formed into sleek, sharp claws. Claws.

Ichigo held up his hands to his face, as if staring harder would make the whiteness go away until he threw himself to the ground and started rubbing his hands against the ground, in hope to rub the white that was his skin away. He scrubbed and scrubbed, but nothing happened, it didn't even go red. However what did happen made all colour that was left on his face, if any, disappear. His human skin literally fell off. Fell away in gory heaps that floated in the rain water. Ichigo stared at it, not believing his eyes.

His skin hadn't formed rashes. It hadn't been infected, or dry. It had been dying.

Ichigo screamed, screamed until his throat was once again raw, until his face was drenched in his own tears. His head spun, sweat tickled down his skin and his chest hurt as he gasped for air. He couldn't breath, couldn't think, couldn't do anything else but hold his hands away from himself as if they were dripping with acid. His vision blurred as his pupils dilated with panic and he stumbled around on the wet ground.

He wanted to scream for help but no words managed leave him, only half choking monstrous grunts did. He wanted to run but his legs wouldn't yield, they only wobbled beneath him. He wanted to die right there and now, but death never came.

It was all happening too soon, too suddenly and too fast.

Back in the Kurosaki residence the door to Ichigo's room flung open as his father stormed inside, worry written across his face as he had heard his son move. Upon seeing the inside of the room he only got more worried about what Ichigo could be doing or what was going on with him.

He was shocked when he saw the body of his son lying in broken glass shards, face down, surrounded by water that had been inside the glass. Fatherly instinct kicked in as he pulled his son from the shards and turned him around to see how bad the damage was.

A young face with blood across his face, shards everywhere on the boy's front. Carefully removing the shards of glass he noticed that his son wasn't breathing. Panic quickly followed as he tried to feel the neck and wrist to see if there still was a heartbeat, he felt nothing. His eyes grew wide as the thought of the possibility his orange haired son could have died from those strange rashes. It was like someone squeezed his heart, his throat, he couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

A gentle breeze blew across his face, cooling the tears that had started streaming down on his bearded face. His mind kicked back into gear as some air made it to his brain. He had closed the window before he left, he was sure of it. He had closed it to prevent his son from getting a cold or some other infection that travelled through air. The window was open, but no one had entered the room after he left. Looking back to the body in his arm he realized there was no soul in it. Looking further around himself he found the golden badge fast enough, and he was relieved to think almost certain that his son was indeed alive and outside. Having calmed down enough he pulled out a few of the bigger shards that were still stuck in his son's face.

One of the pieces went through the right cheek and had damaged the inside of the mouth. The biggest one of them had a triangular shape and was stuck in the boy's open left eye... His expression became sad as he pulled the red stained glass out. The clumsiness of his son's resulted in permanent blindness in one of his eyes. The wounds the shards caused would hurt him for a while when his shinigami son came back to continue his life in this body. _If_ he came back.

Still worried about the strange skin condition on Ichigo's now lifeless body, he started to worry if the rashes would be in his shinigami form as well. He gently pulled out the last small pieces of glass and placed the limp body on the bed and made his decision. He would find his son and find out what was wrong with him, even if it meant he had to reveal his hidden past. Which his son would hate him for, for the not telling, for the lying about everything, the not helping. With any of his problems.

Ichigo on the other hand, didn't have a decision on anything what to whatsoever. His mind was still in turmoil. His body was having cramp-like twitches and the skin on his face was painfully falling off, leaving white skin behind. He groaned when the skin fell off his cheeks, leaving them with a thin slit across from lips to ear, enabling him to open his mouth wider.

Unfortunately it didn't stop there as his jaw cramped, its muscles contracting painfully. The boy wanted to scream again, the was pain intense beyond any compare when his teeth where literally starting to force their way out in his mouth, the roots being slowly pushed out of their places. His mouth bled heavily and he gurgled loudly in an attempt not to choke on his own blood.

He was on all fours, his head supported by the wet ground, blood flowing from his mouth staining the dark concrete. White teeth fell away as Ichigo moaned loudly in pain. His teeth looked like lumps of blood in the red thick substance that smeared across his torn face... He eventually lost all his teeth, all of them falling to the ground. Ichigo's hands shook at his face, his fingers almost touching his lips, he wanted to press against the skin to cradle the pain away, but he didn't dare. The fright of his own limbs was still too great.

As suddenly as it had all started, Ichigo fell to the ground completely paralyzed. His spine burned so intensely it left him unconscious on the pavement as it literally shot in length, out of his body. It grew and grew, past his legs and muscles crept slowly over it along with white bone hard skin, forming into a perfect black tipped tail.

Isshin had managed to calm himself down despite his inner worries about his son, but even more so about how said son left the house. Putting on his normal somewhat hyperactive face he took the girls to their room and wished them goodnight. Once he exited the room and closed the door, he leaned back against the cold wall of his home. His facade broke as a single tear flowed across his cheek where it became tangled in the short black beard. Confusion was written all over his face and invaded his system as to why would Ichigo be so careless in leaving his body behind like that.

Those rashes he had on his hands, they weren't any normal type of eczema. It almost looked as if the skin was dying, but how? Why? He shook his head, trying get rid of the negative thoughts as he walked downstairs and got some materials to help him clean his son's room for when he came back, something which Isshin started to doubt after Ichigo's real body was left with one blind eye laying in glass shards. He quietly walked up the stairs, making sure not to wake his daughters who were hopefully asleep. Opening the door to Ichigo's room Isshin used a broom to collect the glass shards Some were slightly stained red from where they had been in the boy's body.

A quick glance at the body made him sad, confused, closely followed by rage. Who had done this, why? Why Ichigo!? He didn't understand and shook his head while he wrapped the glass in old newspapers before putting them in a trashcan. Looking back he saw the small crimson stains on the floor, blood from his son who was still missing. Walking over to the orange haired body he used alcohol to clean the cuts. His face was filled with sadness at the thought that he was cleaning his son's lifeless body. It felt like he was preparing him for a funereal. He didn't want this and he clenched the sheets until his hands became white. Isshin came to the conclusion that he would find his son, and bring him back.

Squatting down on the floor, he removed the last of the stains before putting the used materials back in the storage room. First he went back to Ichigo's room where he picked up the shinigami badge and lay down his own bed he pressed the seal against his chest. The powerful ex-captain of the Gotei stood proudly beside his own bed, but his face was resolved, he would search for his son, he would find him and tell him everything. With that goal in his mind he leaped out the window and disappeared into the night.

His strong legs pumped along the ground, the rain making him worry even more about his son, for if his human body was off this bad; what could then have happened to his soul? The horrible thought that perhaps it was even worse there made his stomach turn.

'The world as you know it just died, Ichigo!!' A bright, twisted voice boomed among many others inside an orange haired head. It jolted Ichigo awake, his eyes widening as the hundred of voices returned.

'You couldn't even protect yourself! Your own flesh and bone!? No wonder you let me die! DIE! I hate you!'

In panic he shot up, his mother again, her voice far more cruel than he had ever heard her. More voices came, louder and louder and soon it all mixed into one combined enormous, hideous laugh. Ichigo immediately fell back on the ground, his mind defeated. He couldn't stand the voices anymore and something told him that this time they would never still. He begged for it to stop, but like always – mercy never came.

When he moved to get away from himself, he stumbled back down as he felt something, something where something wasn't supposed to be. His right hand quickly trailed over his back, travelled to his hips and met with a form between his buttocks. Something thick that he felt himself touching as if he was touching his own skin. In the back of his mind he could hear voices hiss what it was over and over, mixed with the taunting laughers, but he refused to believe it. Ichigo raised his bloodshot eyes in front of himself, refusing to look or acknowledge his own body, refused to think it was real. But when long heaps of his own hair fell in front of his face, it was hard.

'We're beautiful, can't you feel it!?'

'No.'

The screeching voices called him a liar for denying what was beautiful, what was real, what was right. It was he who had been ugly, the faulty; he had been the deformed one, the defenceless, the impure and broken. But now he was going to become _perfect_.

"Shut up! Shut up!! I hate you!" The boy screamed out loud, his voice a deep grunt and slurry due to split cheeks; his mouth opening too much as he cursed the maggot that had infected his soul like cancer.

'You can scream but there's no rescue, Ichigo!' The voice of the monster inside boomed.

He wanted to end his life, to get away from what he could not run from, to hide away in the darkest place of the world before he was lost.

'You are already lost!'

Ichigo screamed again, but this time a roar bubbled up in his sore throat, his long hair flying up like a mane as he tried to run on numb feet with a tail he wasn't supposed to have, dragging over the ground behind him.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop Isshin looked everywhere his eyes could reach, icy cold raindrops kept falling into his dark brown eyes which were filled with worry. A few times he saw something that resembled his son, his heart was relieved and his body started to relax as he jumped down. But it turned out to be normal humans who couldn't see him. Some dyed their hair while others wore a black jacket with an orange vest underneath.

A loud howl echoed through the many busy streets of the centre of Karakura.

"A hollow? Why now…?" The ex-captain complained as he sensed the origin of the cry. But something felt off about this hollow. He couldn't name it, but his insides, his fatherly instincts told him something was very wrong, far worse than he expected to find.

Before he realized, he was running through the rain, his feet soaking in the water with every step, but he didn't care. His brain didn't work as it should, ignoring the fact that he could use shunpo or jump onto the roofs and reach his destination faster.

Getting closer to the source he could feel the hollow's presence getting stronger with each step he took. Arriving at the scene he vomited, not even all his years as a doctor or shinigami were enough.

The rain had washed away most of the thick red substance called human blood, but even with this much blood here the human who this belonged to couldn't be alive, that much was certain. Investigating the puddle better he could see small pieces of bone, picking it up he held it closer to his eyes for a good look at it, eyes widening as he recognized the material; this were teeth. Managing to keep his lunch in his stomach he noticed the large pile of... something he didn't recognize. Walking closer his sandals and socks turned red as stepped in the puddle. Something in the back of his mind told him that he knew what it was; but he just kept denying it to himself.

Picking up handful of the substance he quickly felt it was human skin. But where was the rest of the body? When he looked better at the piece of skin in his hand he saw holes in the hide that resembled hands, and some sort of... rash.

At the thought alone he felt bile rise in his throat and slowly he recognized the hand and the wounds on them, they were the same on Ichigo's hands. Isshin's mind went blank as his face lost all color and rage followed soon after. He would find the sick freak, the hollow he sensed earlier and he would make it suffer just as it had made his son suffer. There was no place for a single rational thing in Isshin's mind, only revenge.

Scanning his surrounding he caught sight of a trail of limping bloody footsteps.

_'So he can't be far… '_ he thought to himself as he followed the trail which was half faded by something that dragged behind him, like a tail that couldn't be use anymore.

The owner of the tail was indeed not far, only a few blocks away.

Ichigo had curled into a tight ball, white knees against his white chin. His jaw was still hurting as sharp fangs grew in a steady pace out of where his human teeth once had been. His eyes were shut tightly with thick tears streaming out of them and he was rocking slowly back and forth in a small tight, dark alley. His tail curled itself around himself, his long hair stuck to his face and body like glue. He was cold and shaking, his teeth clattering against each other.

The voices inside his head had changed for the worse, now they were wailing, sad and loud, crying for a cure against a burning hunger that Ichigo couldn't understand. They cried and cried, blaming him for it, blaming him for making the hunger come, for destroying their perfect ways. It was his entire fault that their beautiful ways were shattered. They kept rising in volume, blocking out all else.

Ichigo didn't know what to do, all he did was to sit and mumble to the voices to go away.

Isshin on the other hand wanted to cry and kill the monster that had killed and mutilated his son's body. It had to be what was happening, the thought that a hollow wouldn't come back to just hurt a human a little bit over time was erased from his mind, as he did not want to see anything else. When he drew closer to the faint strange feeling, sensing the source just behind a few houses, he sprinted into a quick jog but stopped dead at what he saw once he entered a tight alley.

The ex-captain stared, knowing at once who was sitting curled up into a ball in a wet corner. The hair was color too intense to not be been seen, or recognized by his eyes. He dropped the sword he had held in a battle ready stance, his heart breaking at what he saw.

Ever so slowly he walked up to his son, doing his best to appear calm and collected. Before he was next to him, he squatted down to sit on his feet, not daring to go too close, afraid that the boy would flee. But his eyebrows furrowed as his only son did not seem to notice him.

Ichigo was rocking back and forth, his eyes open but starring into nothing and a faint whisper escaped his clattering teeth.

'Go away, go away, go away...'

The shinigami crept closer to his son, but he still stayed at a safe distance, unsure on what to do.

'Go away, go away, go away...'

The orange haired, white skinned boy kept repeating the words as a mantra, hoping the voices would stop eventually. He just sat there, chanting in a trance.

Isshin was at a loss for words and his mind didn't seem to function from the moment he saw that his son was alive and... What was he now? He lost his human skin like a snake; his new skin was pale, no almost pure white. Quietly, slowly he took another position on the wall across his son and sat down on the cold, wet ground. Making sure he didn't make any noise he looked over the shaking figure that was his son, not wanting to believe it really was him.

The bright orange hair was definitely that of Ichigo, it couldn't be anyone else. It hung downwards, heavy from the rain. The usual short spikes of unruly hair were gone, just as his trademark scowl. Isshin's heart died inside when he got a clear view of the others face; eyes were not the same as they once were, the chocolate brown had faded into bright yellow irises, the white surrounding it looked poisoned, infected, it had turned into inky black darkness. Those eyes reflected nothing, the will to live, was gone, the eyes spoke more clearly than the voice ever could.

'I want to die...'

But what scared him even more was the boy's mouth. From both corners it had been brutally torn all the way to his ears, knowing Ichigo lost his teeth a few blocks back along with his more than half his blood and complete skin. Fangs, sharp fangs were busy growing to replace the human teeth that had once been there.

Blaming himself was all Isshin could do; he couldn't release his son from his suffering, not when it meant killing him. But what happed to Ichigo make him like this? Isshin wanted to see his son; the one that would laugh, cry, scold him and even beat him up. Every other emotion was better than this helpless attitude he was seeing, but looking the circumstances he couldn't really blame his son either.

He didn't like the way the reiatsu Ichigo was leaking sensed, with each passing minute it became less human and more that of a hollow.

The voices in Ichigo's head were giggling now, in some sad twister manner, far too loud for his liking and he screamed at them.

"Be quiet!" His voice didn't even sound like his own anymore, just the cry of a hollow. Isshin was startled by the sudden outburst and knocked over a trashcan which fell over with a lot of noise.

_'Shit!'_ Isshin thought as he looked from the trashcan back to his son who was staring at him with those dead black and yellow eyes.

Isshin froze; he didn't dare to move, afraid of what his son would do, those black unblinking eyes looming over him. But suddenly Ichigo stiffened, his face distorted in pain, as the white skin on his feet singed and deformed, bone shooting out of them.

Isshin himself screamed, not as loudly as his son, but shot up from his position on the ground, rushing over to the agonized form. He leaned over him, but didn't dare to touch the bone pipes, or any part of his son's body. His eyes widened and he wanted to throw up when he saw the blood, flesh and nerves move out over the bone and finally getting covered with white flawless skin.

The boy fell to the right, his head slamming hard into the ground, sending tears flying. His body shook once more and his feet felt as if they had been crushed when they formed into three long sharp claws. Ichigo screamed and the voices in his head once again sheered, their begging cries and distorted giggles gone for the moment.

Isshin heard the creature that was once his beloved son laugh. Even when he laughed hideously, the utter and complete sadness was still clearly there. Isshin didn't know how to react, seeing his son in such a mad state, seeing him so broken and yet laughing. He wanted to cradle his son, comfort him, hold him tight and wipe the tears away, make him like he used to be.

He bent down beside the twitching form and grabbed his son's bony, spiked shoulders and shook them gently and called his name. He wanted his son back now, not this… monster. But what once was his son only gurgled and twitched more on the ground when Isshin's strong arms shook him, so the ex-captain quickly released him, fear clear on his bearded face, he didn't want to make his son suffer more than he already was.

Eventually the laugh died down and the wailing voices returned in Ichigo's mind, they cried along with him, but in a different way, distorted cries that all seemed to accuse him for causing the raging hunger in his soul. Ichigo whimpered, curled his tail closer around himself and more tears fell down ice cold cheeks.

"Go away, _ssshh_, go away, _ssshh_, quiet… be quiet please… quiet…please… go away…"

But the voices wouldn't listen and without any warning they started screeching in his mind once again. Ichigo slammed his hands over his ears and pushed his clawed fingers into his ears, desperate to make the voices quiet down. He clawed at his ears, tearing his own white skin, even if it hurt, he didn't stop. He pushed them in further as he begged and begged for mercy.

Suddenly Ichigo felt something pull at his deformed hands and he huddled closer together in twitch like manner, more than afraid of what touched him. He needed to make the voices go away, needed to claw them out of his mind even if it meant cutting his brain open, he didn't care, not anymore. When thinking it was his hollow that tried to stop him, Ichigo lashed out and screamed, tear filled eyes moving upward.

Spotting something above him, something black, something tall, Ichigo shot up from his place on the ground with a scream, his body pumping burning adrenaline through his veins. He needed to get away, away from the demon that infected him, away from the world and all its horrors. He ran on all four, his feet and claws pushing against wet pavement. He stumbled and fell several times, his new formed limbs not completely complying. But he kept on running, his mind was panicking and when suddenly the voice of his hollow boomed above all other voices like a god, Ichigo fell, skidding across rough stone covered pavement.

'You're mine now!' It boomed, as Ichigo felt his eyes sting and something make its way up his throat, out of his eyes and smear across his face where it slowly hardened.

Isshin's worst fear became reality as he ran after his son, who was screaming out in pain as he covered his mangled, white skinned face with his hands. The older of the two didn't know what to do anymore, his son, his precious and cherished child was becoming a heartless monster. What had happened? He didn't know, he didn't even dare to guess, but it was certain that Ichigo had wanted to fight and beat it alone.

"Foolish boy, it's almost impossible to win against a heartless being that has nothing to lose..."

Isshin whispered to the figure that was writhing in agony on the floor as the last of its sanity disappeared like snow in summer.

Isshin couldn't bear to look at his son's pain, he wanted to hold him, drive the pain away. But last time it only led to more pain and fear of the things the boy couldn't remember anymore. Thinking things over Isshin could guess that Ichigo had been fighting this problem longer than just the last few days, far before his skin started dying and he hadn't even know for how long that had been going on.

The lack of agonizing screams stopped his train of thought and he looked back to the white creature that had once been his son. Long orange coloured hair had stopped growing at the base of his strong tail that moved from left to right, like a cat, decorated with a pitch black tip and waving lines which had the same colour as the tip. His shoulder blades extended and had formed spikes that were white like the rest of the body. Muscular arms bore the same wavy black patterns which ran from the shoulder to the back of his clawed hand with sharp and powerful nails. The skinny legs became muscular and covered with the inky black tattoos.

The monster turned around and stared directly at the black haired male shinigami with his bright yellow and black eyes. Those eyes showed no reflection, no similarity to who he once was. The mask completely covered its face, hiding it from the world's eye. The mask's left side was covered in inky black stripes and razor sharp teeth, fangs ran from ear to ear, laughing at Isshin.

Laughing at his victory over the now broken and helpless teen, the sound the hollow made was high pitched, insane. Looking at the chest Isshin saw a perfect circular hole, the sign that it was definitely a hollow that had given up on life and becoming a slave to his instinct to survive.

The orange haired hollow stopped laughing suddenly. Isshin stiffened and got ready to fight if it ever came to that, but he wasn't sure if he could, not after seeing his son's pain, feeling it through the screams.

"Ya lost..." The hollow suddenly hissed, confusing the shinigami. "I told ya I wouldn't bow before a pathetic King like you." Isshin didn't know who the creature was talking to, but quietly circled the hollow, standing behind it, evading the tail and hiding his reiatsu. He knew it wasn't his son talking anymore; the mask was complete on the pale face, the reiatsu nothing but hollow.

"You see, Ichigo. I am stronger, better, not weakened by those filthy human emotions. I am perfec-" His hissing voice suddenly died when a cold metal object was pushed through his hard skull from behind. The blade exited between his eyes, its tip red. Crimson red dripping down the blade onto his white mask.

"I don't know if you can hear me, Ichigo... But I am truly sorry for not being there when it mattered the most. I am sorry for not stopping you when you were hiding your pain. Please forgive me." Isshin's said as he pushed the blade upwards, the mask breaking along with his son's skull. Thick tears fell down his face, his grief worse than ever.

The hollow turned around when the blade had been pulled out completely, his limbs starting to fade, dissolve. To the shinigami's surprise the hollow pulled off his mask, revealing the boy's original unharmed face and a weak smile.

"I wasn't strong enough..." he whispered faintly before fading away completely, disappearing from the face of the earth.

Isshin dropped to his knees, screaming in agony, screaming for his lost son. He had killed his own son, his flesh and blood. And Ichigo didn't care. Looking up to the full moon, Isshin begged for forgiveness that would never come.

-- The End --


End file.
